Weekend Retreat
by barbell
Summary: Devon and Michael try to help Bonnie after she receives odd letters in the mail
1. Weekend Retreat

Weekend Retreat  
  
The day started out like any other day in the mobile unit. KITT came in for service. A potential disaster was averted. Michael came home triumphant. Devon then told Bonnie that they would be home the next day. She met that news with mixed emotions.  
Normally she enjoyed coming home after being in the semi, although working on KITT and being able to tinker with the computers was almost like down time for her. Actually, she most enjoyed spending time in the semi as she toyed around with new concepts and trying to see which ones would really work out for KITT. There had been so many new innovations added to him since he was first conceptualized. Bonnie had added the grappling hook, which had on many occasions literally saved Michael's life. Also the oxygen vent to help him any time he had been drugged or needed a little extra help that way. She'd programmed over 2,000 different poisons into his databanks with their potential consequences. He had CO2 in a compartment that was able to douse a fire within 20 feet of the car without endangering the driver. Lately she had been working on a lie detector system. She had loved Wonder Woman comic books as a girl, and thought of this new idea as KITT's golden lasso.  
On this day, when Devon told her she needed to prepare to come home after being away for 4 days, she felt an overwhelming reluctance. It wasn't the thought of having to stop toying with the new idea she was playing with. She could easily continue to do that in the lab or in one of the bay areas once they were home. It was the mail she would open after she got home that she was dreading.  
While on the road, their mail was held for them and delivered upon arrival at the Foundation. Bonnie was not looking forward to getting another letter from "Carter". She had received two of them so far, both coming to her at her apartment. She didn't have any idea who this guy was, but he seemed to know an inordinate amount of things about her. She could swear she had never met the guy. But he had sent her two letters within the last 7 days, and she found them disturbing. Oddly enough, although she had brought it to work to show Devon, she hadn't said anything to him about either one of them. The first one merely said, "Hi, Bonnie - hope to see you soon. I like the hair cut. Carter." She had only recently had her hair trimmed. He seemed to know about it. She wondered about it, and wracked her brain for the rest of the day trying to figure out who this guy was. She didn't even know if it were his first or last name.  
Chalking it up to a too full schedule to remember, she tossed the letter into a drawer when Devon came in. She didn't want to worry him with something that probably was merely a slip of her memory, anyway. Then, they got busy on the case, and she had simply not remembered it again until the day they left. That's when she'd gotten the second one, addressed to Bonnie Barstow at Greenview Terrace Apartments, #212. It had worried her a little. "Bonnie - can't wait until you're back from your trip. I will be sending you a 'present'. - Carter." How did this guy know where she lived? And how did he know that she was going to be gone?  
She was going to bring it up to Devon, but he came in with a headache, and she really didn't want to burden him with it. There was no return address, and it had been mailed from a downtown p.o. Shrugging, she opened her drawer and threw it in with the other one. She promised herself she'd show them to Devon when she got home.  
They arrived late afternoon, and soon they had pulled out old parts to be overhauled, dirty laundry, and personal items from the semi. But before they even had a chance to get unpacked, Devon had asked her and Michael to go to dinner with him. "Celebratory feast" he called it, and she had laughed at such a grand name for an Italian dinner - spaghetti and a salad, with a basket of garlic toast. Regardless of what he'd called it, she had thoroughly enjoyed it, and so had the two of the men. There was a family feel to their lives right now, and all 3 seemed to be delighted with it. So as they sipped coffee after their meal, tying up the loose ends of their conversation regarding the just finished case that had ended so well, with no gunfire nor anyone being hurt (except for the tap on the jaw Michael had landed to Mr. Meron before he'd brought him in) she brought up the letters.  
"Devon, Michael, do you remember anyone named Carter that has been around recently?"  
Michael asked, "First or last name?"  
"I wish I knew," she answered.  
"Why do you ask?" Devon wondered.  
"Well, I've been receiving letters from a guy named Carter, and I don't remember meeting him."  
"My, my, what a busy social agenda you must have, to have so many men you meet that you can't even remember them all..." Michael teased.  
"That's just it, Michael. My life's been busy, but socially, I've been...well, inert."  
Devon looked at Michael and grinned. "She means inactive."  
"I got it, I got it," Michael grinned back.  
"So wouldn't I remember if I had met a guy, and paid enough attention to him to give him my name and address?"  
Devon began to look concerned, and Michael was obviously interested in pursuing this. "Do you still have the letters?"  
"Yeah, in my top drawer of my desk in the office. He said in the first one he liked my haircut. I only had it done a few weeks ago, and he'd have had to know me before, or he wouldn't have known to comment on it."  
"Maybe he was the guy who cut it," Michael suggested.  
"My hairdresser is named Michelle, and I think I'd notice if a 'Carter' took her place."  
He shrugged as she went on. "He knows where I live , Michael! And he knew I was going to be gone. That's pretty confidential, and I know I wouldn't tell anyone that I was going to go off in the semi for a week - especially someone I had just met!"  
They nodded. "When we get home, Bonnie, I want you to show us those letters. This is rather distressing. I hope we aren't dealing with one of those deranged stalkers you read about in the paper."  
She shivered. "I think I'm going to be spending the next few nights sleeping with one eye on the door..."  
"Stay at the Foundation," Devon suggested.  
"But, since I got my own apartment, I feel so...I don't know...not at home when I stay there."  
Devon tried not to look stricken. "My dear, you used to stay there all the time."  
She wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm a big girl now, Devon. I've got my own place."  
He covered her hand with his own. "I know. But even if you'd feel better at your apartment, I believe you'll sleep better at home. I mean, the Foundation."  
She again shrugged, this time in resignation. "When you're right, you're right." She grinned at him. "Which seems to be pretty much all the time!"  
He shook his head at her as they stood up. "You don't know what such flattery does to my poor old heart."  
"'Old heart'?" Michael repeated. "Devon, you'll likely outlive me by ten years!"  
"Let's not talk about life expectancy right now, all right Michael?" he asked, nodding slightly toward Bonnie. Michael agreed, and began telling the introduction to a very long, involved joke that they had heard before. Both of them turned in unison, arm in arm, and walked ahead of him out of the restaurant, trying to ignore him while keeping a straight face.  
On the way home, Devon suggested they stop at her apartment to get her some fresh clothes. She agreed, and the two of the them escorted her to her apartment. While there, Devon again commented on how much he enjoyed her place, and said he understood her wanting to get back to it. Hopefully, she wouldn't be away for long. It made her feel better.  
As they left, she stopped by her mail box and opened it with her key. There, inside, was over a half dozen letters and bills, plus the little yellow slip to show that she had had a package delivered that needed to be picked up at the post office. Her heart sank as she realized that he really had sent her something. She enjoyed getting mail as much as the next girl, but this filled her with an odd sense of foreboding. Devon slipped an arm around her shoulders.  
"I'll tell you what we're going to do, my dear. Tomorrow, Michael is going to take that slip to the post office and pick up that package for you. You won't have to worry with it. We'll even let KITT scan it before you open it. Will that make you feel better?"  
She nodded as she put her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully. 


	2. Michael Delivers the Goods

Michael Delivers the Goods  
  
"I thought you didn't sleep well away from home," Devon told her as he set a steaming cup of coffee in front of her the next morning. "I haven't seen you look this good in over a week."  
She shrugged. "Thanks. I have been worried, and I feel secure here."  
As he sat down at his desk, he looked up at her. She was so lovely, and seemed so delicate. He realized that her appearance was deceiving in that way, but it still caused him to be very protective of her at times like this.  
It was two hours later when Michael buzzed Devon's desk. "Yes?" He said into the receiver.  
"Could you come out here a minute?" Michael asked Devon.  
"Where are you?"  
"Right outside your office."  
"Be there in a minute," he said.  
"And Devon...please make Bonnie stay there."  
He raised an eyebrow as he looked over at her, typing away. "No problem."  
Once outside in KITT, Michael asked KITT to please repeat the test on the box. He did.  
"Same result as last time, Michael."  
"What is it?" Devon asked, concerned.  
"Devon, " KITT said, "It's a dead rat."  
He physically recoiled at this news. "Who on earth would be sick enough to do something like this to Bonnie?" he asked.  
"I don't know, but you can believe that this case is now our number one priority."  
"KITT, was there a message with it?" Devon asked.  
"Devon, a dead rat is a message in itself," KITT replied.  
"You're right, KITT," Devon told him. Looking at Michael, he added, "I don't want Bonnie to know about this."  
"I agree. However, Devon, KITT has discovered something else: this rat was fed a 'special diet'."  
"Special how?"  
"Apparently it was a former lab rat, and the chemical ingested by this rat is being exclusively used experimentally in a nearby laboratory. We're on our way to investigate now."  
Devon smiled at Michael and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you." He exited the car and returned to the office.  
Bonnie looked at him. "Well? Did Michael ever pick up that package?"  
He studied her face a long moment, considering actually lying to her. But he couldn't do that to her. Mostly because he would have hated it if she'd done it to him.  
"Yes."  
"And...?"  
"And...we had KITT analyze the contents."  
"And...?" she continued to bait him.  
"And...I'm not going to tell you what was inside."  
"What?" she asked heatedly. "Why not?"  
"Because I'd rather you not know."  
"Rather or not, it was my package, Devon."  
He sighed, went to her, and helped her up. Holding her by the shoulders very gently, he looked into her eyes. "You know how much I care for you, Bonnie. Trust me. You don't want to know what was inside that box. It won't make it any easier for you to sleep at night. But you don't have to worry, Michael is on the case."  
"Is this a case?"  
"It is now," he replied, squeezing her shoulders lightly. "Now I want you to promise me you won't try to find out."  
She stared into his face. She knew by his expression he was not going to tell her, and that was that. "Okay," she agreed, knowing Michael would tell her if she begged...  
"And don't try to find out from Michael, either."  
She looked like a little girl caught stealing cookies. She nodded, then realized that there was no way KITT could keep it from her...  
"And under no circumstances are you to try to find out from KITT. If you are a very good girl and do as you're told, once this is all over, if you still want to know, I will tell you. Deal?"  
She sighed, and then gave a small laugh. "When am I ever not a 'very good girl'?"  
"Almost never," he agreed, kissing her cheek.  
"What do you mean, 'almost'?" she smiled as he released her. In answer, one eyebrow climbed slightly in a gesture guaranteed to win her favor, and he knew it. It didn't fail this time, either. She gave him a hug. "Alright, you stubborn Irishman," she agreed. "But it won't be easy. Remember Pandora, Devon. And it wasn't even her box!"  
"I'm aware, that's why I had you promise me."  
"Well, I'm still not sure I'm not upset about it, but I do respect your judgement, Devon, and I'll go along with what you ask. I promise."  
"Thank you," Devon said as she sat back down to finish her typing.  
Michael came in five minutes later and just looked at her a moment before asking her,  
"Hey, when you finish typing that, can you do me a favor? Can you type "Carter" into KITT's databanks and see if it relates to any case we've been involved in within the last six months?"  
"Sure. Can you do me a favor?" she asked.  
"Anything."  
"Tell me what was in the box," she replied, looking at Devon to catch his reaction. His head snapped up to stare at her in disbelief before she burst out laughing. Turning back to Michael, who was staring at her open- mouthed at her request, she said, "No, no, don't tell me." She sighed. "I really don't want to know. I was just..."  
"Pulling my chain?" Devon asked. "You should be ashamed of yourself, doing that to an old man who loves you."  
"Old man, huh?" she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief.  
"Stubborn Irishman, huh?" he repeated her words, causing her to blush a little.  
In a small voice, but laced with humor, she said, "But you are."  
With another raised eyebrow he added, "And I'm not the only one."  
Michael stared from one to the other, shrugged, and headed out the door with the words, "I'm gone, Devon. I'll get back to you."  
"Good luck, Michael," Devon called after him.  
  
Michael's investigation netted him the receptionist's name and phone number, plus an interview with one of the scientists leading the experiments with the new drug.  
He learned more about that chemical than he cared to know, but he also learned that the scientists involved really care about their animals, and he was assured that none of them would harm any of the rats there. Also, he discovered, one of their rats had disappeared about a week ago, mysteriously. It was there that night when they left, but it was gone the next morning. Interestingly, the janitor, Carter Stevens, hadn't been seen since that night, either.  
They were glad to give him Mr. Stevens' address, especially once he returned the rat to them in the box with humble apologies. After he left, they wondered what sort of an organization spent time and money investigating the killing of laboratory rats.  
A quick look around Carter's house revealed that he was gone. Whether it was a temporary move or a permanent one, Michael couldn't tell, but he obviously was laying low somewhere else. When he called Devon to report this, he was summoned back to the Foundation immediately. 


	3. Getaway

When Michael arrived after being summoned back to FLAG while he had been investigating, he found Devon and Bonnie in the midst of a disagreement.  
"Devon, I won't be forced out of my own office!"  
"You are being forced out, and not by me, but only for a few days..."  
"I'm not letting this guy get to me."  
"Unless I am mistaken, miss, he already has 'gotten' to you..." Devon countered.  
"What's going on here?" Michael asked.  
Devon turned to look at Michael. "Bonnie has just received a message from Carter on her computer. This is too close to home. I'm afraid that he knows where she is now and how to get to her. I'm taking her up to the Blue Lake retreat until you can capture him."  
"I won't go, Devon," Bonnie stated.  
"We'll be gone for a few days, so if you need us, you'll have to have KITT go through the closed channels to reach us there."  
"Hello! Can you hear me? I am not going to ..." Bonnie stated clearly, apparently to no one.  
Devon's eyes turned to meet Bonnie's, and she read the determination in them.  
He addressed Michael, but his eyes never left Bonnie's. "Michael, take her up to her room and get her packed. Don't leave her side until she's back down here. Do you understand?"  
Michael looked at Bonnie's pink cheeks, no doubt from frustration at being totally ignored. He'd heard her loud and clear. So had Devon. He hated taking sides in these things, but Devon was, after all, the boss.  
"Yeah, I hear you. Come on, sweetie. Let's get you packed."  
With a withering glance at Devon, she led Michael out of the room. After she left, Devon could only shake his head and smile at her indignation. He was terribly worried about her, and would rather have her mad at him than lose her.  
  
On the way to the Retreat, Bonnie hardly spoke to Devon at all. He tried several times to make conversation, but she answered in monosyllables. Finally, Devon gave up. He understood her frustration and her own worry, but he could do scant about it.  
Once they arrived and parked, before they got out of the car, Devon turned to Bonnie.  
"I'm sorry if you're upset or angry, Bonnie. I know I made the right decision. It would make this time so much more pleasant if you were to be happy. But whether or not you are, we are staying here for several days. Can't you just make the best of it?"  
She looked up at him, and the hurt in his eyes nearly killed her. "Oh, Devon, I'm not angry. I just feel sometimes like I'm talking into thin air. No one seems to listen."  
"I was listening to you, my dear. I heard every syllable. But I'm afraid I couldn't change my mind, regardless of how you felt about it. And I wanted you out of there as soon as possible. You know how I feel. It made me nervous to wait as long as I did." His warm smile changed to a serious expresssion. " I only have one order for you to follow while we're here: No Computers." The look on her face made him laugh out loud. "You look like an alcoholic who's been denied a drink," he told her.  
"That's exactly how I feel."  
"I don't want him to trace you to here. Do you understand? The whole point to my bringing you here was to protect you. No sense in my doing that and then have you get on your computer and allow him to track you down here somehow."  
"All right, Devon. I promise. I suspected that you might tell me that." She leaned over and whispered, as if it were a secret, "I brought...a book." At his look, she asked, "What? I can read, you know. Computers aren't all I can do."  
"How well I know," he said with a laugh as he pulled out the keys and opened his door. It was already more enjoyable to be here now that she was going to cooperate.  
Devon asked Bonnie on the way to the door,  
"By the way, you like dogs, don't you?"  
She looked both confused and surprised. "Uh...yeah, of course."  
"Good," he said as he opened the door. A schnauzer came darting out, tail wagging furiously as he sniffed Devon, then headed for Bonnie.  
"Ohh!" she gasped, absolutely enchanted with the little gray dog. Getting down on its level, she rubbed his neck and scruffy face. It was instant bonding. She looked up at Devon quizically. "Who is this?"  
"Bonnie, meet Rousseau, Mrs. Camp's 'watchdog'."  
"He seems to be awfully friendly for a watchdog," she laughed as the dog rubbed his head against her hand.  
"He is merely an excellent judge of character," he said as he helped her up.  
"Thank you," she whispered to him, nodding a little in embarrassment. He always said such nice things to her, she felt guilty for the way she had treated him on the way up. "I'm sorry I was so torchy on the way up here. I just felt like I had been kidnapped."  
He kissed her cheek and opened the door. "Odd kidnapping. There's been no ransom demand," he smiled.  
Once they had gotten inside, he explained that Mrs. Camp, who served as housekeeper and house sitter for the retreat, had been called up to Santa Cruz because her sister was ill. She would be back in three days, and they were entrusted with Rousseau's care until she returned.  
"Oh, good," Bonnie said. She walked down the hall, calling, "I want this bedroom at the end of the hall, if you don't mind."  
"Whichever one you want. After all, this 'vacation' is for you, really."  
"Vacation," she muttered as she entered the sanctity of her bedroom, still miffed. Then she couldn't help but grin at the attention-starved mutt skittering around her.  
"Okay," she told him, "Let me unpack, and I'll see what I can find in the kitchen for you." Immediately, Rousseau sat and stared up at her patiently. What a cute dog!  
About 30 minutes later, Michael called Devon on a secured line to let him know what he had found out. Apparently, Carter Stevens was the brother of Elliott Stevens, whom they had helped, and then convicted, a couple of years before. Devon remembered the case very well. So did Bonnie, once she heard about it. Michael then told Devon that he was working on a 'sting' operation to draw out and capture Carter. Devon gave his approval and his blessing.  
That night was truly wonderful for Bonnie. Devon cooked steaks and she made a salad, they shared some wine, and then walked the dog together. When they came in, he offered her a game of backgammon. Actually, it was more of a challenge. She accepted, and proceeded to beat him - but not by much. She had a feeling he 'let her' win, but when she asked, he seemed offended at the thought. That night, she slept with Rousseau on the rug beside her bed.  
The next day passed uneventfully. Bonnie read some, and that afternoon, she and Devon played chess. She watched an old Cary Grant movie with him, then went to bed early, still accompanied by her furry faithful companion.  
  
Devon was awakened by the phone at 7:30 the next morning. It was Michael. He was trying to set up the sting, and needed some money. It needed to be withdrawn personally from Devon's account, and the check needed to be signed by Devon - also personally. Michael could come to the retreat, he said, to get it. But then, he couldn't be trying to track down Carter. Devon and he discussed it for a while, and Devon told him that he would come back to town and go to the downtown branch of the bank, draft a check, get it withdrawn, and have the cash waiting for him. Then, all Michael would have to do is stop by the bank, show i.d., pick it up, and keep on going. He hated to leave Bonnie, but he felt she would be safer at the retreat than she would be in town, where she might be seen. Besides, if everything went as he hoped, he'd be back in time for lunch with her. And Mrs. Camp was expected back that night, hopefully.  
Bonnie awoke to find a pot of coffee made, and a note beside it.  
  
Bonnie:  
I had to go into town to help Michael with something. Be back by lunchtime. Do not leave the retreat while I'm gone. See you soon,  
Devon  
  
"How do you like that?" she asked Rousseau, still dancing by her feet to be petted. She rubbed his head. "It's just you and me this morning. Did Devon take you for a walk yet?"  
He cocked his head to one side, and she smiled. "I'm going to take a bath and get dressed. Then maybe I'll take you for a walk. Okay?"  
The dog took the small biscuit she offered him over to the corner and chewed on it as she drank her coffee and stared out the window at the beautiful view of hills and lake. She loved it here, and wished she didn't have to be here under these circumstances.  
About 10:30, she was dressed and had looked over the tv guide. Nothing. Suddenly, the dog ran to the door and began to scratch. She nodded. "I promised, didn't I?" she asked. Grabbing up the leash, she picked up the key from the hook, but Rousseau was in rare form that morning, and he took off with her. Before she could turn to lock the kitchen door, she found herself nearly jogging to keep up, down the path and over the hill. She took in a deep breath of the cool morning air. It was nice to be alone here for a change, without feeling she was either in protective custody or being babysat.  
All of a sudden, a bunny appeared not 10 feet from them. It froze, and she enjoyed looking at the small, brown, furry creature. Without warning, the dog's head snapped up, he gave out a loud bark, and took off - jerking the leash right out of Bonnie's hand. She took off after the dog, knowing Mrs. Camp would be back that evening. She didn't want to be the one who lost her dog!  
"Rousseau! Bad dog! Get back here!" she yelled, but the dog kept chasing the rabbit. It ducked under a bush, and the dog tried to get under it. Bonnie was nearly to the dog when he took off again as the rabbit darted away. She ran for a while, and called, but could not get the dog to mind. After a while, she sat down on the ground, near tears, not knowing what to do. She looked at her watch. It was after 11:00 now, and Devon would be home soon. He wouldn't know where she was. Knowing him, he would be worried. She didn't really know which way to go.  
Just then, the dog gave out a loud yelp, and her head came up to see that he had gotten his leash caught in some underbrush. He couldn't get out and he couldn't get free. With a resigned sigh, she got up, dusted off the seat of her jeans, and headed for the dog. It was more difficult than she thought to get to him. He was wedged under pretty tight, and the leash had gotten tied around the trunk of the bushes. The easiest way would be to unfasten him, but she knew the folly in that. So, she laid there, struggling to free the beast, who now was content to lie there licking his paws while she worked. She told him exactly what she thought of him for pulling this trick, and consigned him to the kitchen for the rest of the day once she got him home.  
It was nearly noon when she finally stepped up onto the porch of the retreat lodge, exhausted and feeling like she needed another bath. Suddenly the door was flung open and she whirled around, terrified, and prepared to meet 'Carter' - whoever he was!  
Instead, she now faced the angriest pair of blue eyes she had seen in years. Devon Miles stood pointing to the inside of the house.  
"You get inside this house right now!" he roared at her. She leaned away a little, her eyes narrowing.  
"I..." she began, trying to explain.  
"RIGHT NOW!" he bellowed.  
Okay, so now she was totally intimidated. As the door slammed shut behind her, she unleashed the dog and pointed to the kitchen, saying, "Rousseau. Kitchen." The dog slunk away sheepishly into the kitchen as she heard Devon ask her through his teeth:  
"Just where the devil have you been?"  
"I went..."  
"You 'went'?" he repeated, his voice seeming to climb in volume as he spoke. "I expressly forbid you to leave this house! How dare you ignore what I said!"  
  
"I...I didn't..."  
"You didn't? I told you not to leave the retreat. You left."  
"But I thought..." she began again.  
"You thought? I came home to find the back door unlocked and you gone! Imagine what I thought!"  
Suddenly his hand clamped onto her arm and she found herself being nearly dragged down the hallway to her room.  
As he pulled her along, he said evenly, "If you were ten years younger, so help me..." He deposited her inside and leaned in to grasp the door knob. "You will not leave this room today under dire penalty. Do you understand me?"  
"Devon, I..." she tried again, her face pink with embarrassment.  
"Do you?"  
"Yes, I understand," she finally just gave in, hoping he'd calm down later and they could talk.  
"Good. Because if I see you outside of this room...you will have me to deal with." And with that, he shut the door firmly and walked away.  
Bonnie stood staring at the door. She couldn't believe his dictatorial attitude. Normally he was extremely solicitous of her. But during this entire case he had seemed terribly overprotec- tive. The last two days he'd seemed a little better, but he'd given a very good impression of a tightly wound spring about to go flying off at the slightest upset. She supposed that her not being there when he returned was it.  
Taking a few calming breaths, she headed for a nice, warm bubble bath to relax. Then she put on clean clothes, pulled out her book, and laid down on her bed to read for a while. Slowly she began to calm down. She was bright enough to realize that a good deal of his anger stemmed from worry, but why wouldn't he even let her explain? He must know she loved him and wouldn't have disobeyed him knowingly.  
Nearly two hours later, Devon knocked on her door.  
"Yes?" she asked as she opened it a few inches.  
"I need to talk to you."  
She opened the door wider for him to enter, but he declined. Instead, he turned and headed for the living room, leaving her to trail behind him. She frowned. Was she still in trouble? He seemed to be much more calm now, but still distant.  
He nodded to the couch, and she sat down, noticing the tray of tea on the coffee table in front of it. He sat next to her. Staring into her face, he said, "I want you to know that Michael just apprehended Carter."  
She nearly sagged with relief, as Devon pulled her close and held her. When she pulled back away, she looked at him oddly. "Devon, you're...shaking," she said with true surprise. He wasn't one to have physical manifestations of his emotions.  
"You should have seen me several hours ago when I came home and you were gone."  
She only now began to understand the depth of his concern. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she said, "Devon, I am so sorry. I only took Rousseau for a walk."  
"I told you not to leave the retreat."  
"I...I thought you meant, don't wander off the grounds. I didn't know you meant the house itself. Devon, you know I'd never intentionally do something to worry you."  
He sighed. "But I had the only vehicle with me. There was no way I could have meant for you not to leave the grounds."  
"I...I didn't think of that. But he needed to go out, and I was just going to take him for a short walk. He saw a rabbit and took off."  
"And while you were out 'haring' after him, I was here having heart failure," he quipped.  
She touched his arm. "I'm very sorry I worried you."  
"I'm very sorry I was so harsh with you. I thought you deserved to be severely censured for disobeying a direct order, especially one that I only gave you to protect your life. But I should have known it would be an innocent mistake."  
"I'm glad you know that. Because I had a terrible time with that rascal! First he ran off, jerking the leash right out of my hand. I chased him for a while, but I couldn't keep up with him. I couldn't get him to stop. I was really torn about what to do. I looked at my watch at 11:05 and knew I needed to get back. I was about to leave him and just come home when he started yelping. I tracked him down, and he was all tied up in some bushes. I had to crawl around on the ground to get him loose. I'm exhausted!"  
He smiled at her. "You need a cup of tea."  
"I would love one," she said. He handed her a steaming cup, and for a second she held it, just letting the fragrant steam rise up to her face. Suddenly she felt her eyes sting, and she put down the cup and rubbed at them. Surprised to find tears on her face, she nearly choked on the next breath, and then began to heave sobs of her own. Now, Devon began to appreciate the depth of her worry as well. Putting down his own cup, he pulled her into his arms and held her until she calmed down. It was what both of them needed. He handed her his handkerchief and patted her shoulder.  
Into his lapel, she mumbled, "I didn't know I was so...so scared."  
"Here now, use this," he said softly as he kissed her temple. "Of course you were scared. And about my behaviour earlier...I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I never should have used that tone with you. I was just so very worried that Carter had somehow tracked you down, and I was very angry with myself for leaving you. Then, when you came home all in one piece, well...I lost my temper. Part of it was worry, part was relief. I do apologize."  
"D...Don't," she gulped, blowing her nose. "It was my fault. I never should have left, even if the dog was panicky. I knew you were worried about me, and maybe a small part of me did want to show you I could do one thing on my own without getting myself killed because of it. You have been so terribly overprotective with me ever since this thing started. But I honestly did misunderstand the note. I really don't want to add to your stress level." She smiled at him. "I appreciate it. You've taken all the blows for me. Thank you."  
"Would you like any of the details?"  
"I sure would," she assured him, picking up her tea cup again and taking a sip.  
He explained what he had found out from Michael. Carter Stevens' brother, Elliott Stevens, had owned a computer game company called Deltron Micronics. They made 'Space Cadets', one of her favorite computer games. Four years ago, he had hired FLAG to find out who was stealing computer secrets from the company, but had become so hard to deal with that eventually Devon had dismissed him from their agreement. Michael still hung on to it, though, in typical Michael fashion, and had proven that Elliott himself was behind the thefts, selling to competitors secretly to not scare off shareholders. Bonnie had posed as a friend of a woman (whom Elliott had murdered) who had a case of 'secrets' to sell to Elliott. He'd met her in a restaurant, given her a huge packet of cash, checked the case, and left. She'd never seen him again.  
Sadly, Elliott had died in prison earlier that year from an illness he picked up. Carter had been devastated by his death and blamed the Foundation for it. Michael was his real target. Somehow, he had found out how close Michael and Bonnie were, so he went after her, thinking it would be nearly impossible to fight Michael and win, since he had obviously beaten his big brother at the same game. "Getting to you wasn't really to get back at anything you had done as much as he felt it would hurt Michael to get to you. Michael didn't seem to have any other family. He had accessed your credit card records and had seen the receipt for the haircut - that's how he knew you'd gotten it done."  
"He told Michael that?"  
Devon smiled. "Michael said he'd nearly had to beat it out of him. As well as the information that he'd also had your phone tapped using telephone equipment Michael found in his bedroom. That's how he knew when we were leaving, when you'd be gone, when you'd get back. It was by listening to a conversation we had last week about you packing for the trip to San Jose. He has never seen you. He never followed you or watched you. He only knew about you from what he was able to dig up on Michael and the Foundation." He smiled at her and cupped her face with one hand. "He never even saw you. I don't think he'd know you if he saw you on the street. So, you're doubly safe. He's in custody now, and with the sting Michael pulled, he's got enough on Carter to put him away for quite some time."  
She nodded. "Thank heavens," she muttered, taking another swallow of tea. "Are these Vienna Fingers?" she asked, picking one up and biting into it.  
"I know you love them. I picked up a pack of them for you on the way home today."  
"I could eat a whole package...but I won't. Thanks for buying them."  
"You're welcome. Now, are you going to help me fix dinner tonight?"  
"I thought Mrs. Camp was coming home..."  
"Surely you don't expect the poor woman to come home and have to cook! I intend to cook for her. It's the least I can do for a woman who loaned me the best watchdog in the world."  
Bonnie looked at Devon. "Devon...did she really have to go to Santa Cruz? Or was that a story you told me just to explain why the dog was here?"  
"No, she really did have to go to Santa Cruz. Her sister truly was ill. She was going to take Rousseau with her, however. I talked her into leaving him here so I could...utilize him. I believe we both slept better at nights knowing he was here."  
She sighed. "Devon...you worry too much about me."  
"What is too much? If the situation were reversed, would you worry about me?"  
She studied him a moment. "You know I would."  
"All right, then."  
"Let's put on a roast. Then we can play chess while it cooks," she suggested.  
"All right, that sounds good to me. And this time, you'd better keep an eye on your queen, because I intend to be absolutely vicious this game!"  
"Yeah, I have a picture of you being vicious in any game with me..." she began, then turned to look at him. "And Devon? About the package..." she began.  
"Yes?" he replied, knowing he'd promised but still loathe to tell her.  
"I don't want to know. It's over now. Why don't we just relax and forget about it?"  
"I am all for that. How about if I open a bottle of wine?"  
She smiled at him. "I...really just want the tea now. How about opening it and letting it breathe until dinner?"  
"That's my girl," he said, heading for the kitchen and leaving her with a warm glow at his words.  
"Devon?" she called in to him, "Would it bother you much if I were to call Michael and ask him to come up for the next day or so?"  
"Why?"  
"Well, he did solve this case, and it's so beautiful up here...I thought he could use the rest. I feel so bad, sitting here in this wonderful setting, drinking tea and having fun, while Michael was out risking his life for mine."  
Devon stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Of course I don't mind. Please do."  
Just as she reached for the phone, Rousseau flew out of the open kitchen door that Devon held and made a beeline for Bonnie. She grabbed him up as he jumped up onto the sofa.  
"Oh, I'm still mad at you...I think...you got me in trouble!" she told the dog, who seemed oblivious to everything except her hands rubbing him. "Oh, well...Devon forgave me, I guess I should do the same." And she kissed the top of his head and rubbed him before setting him down on the rug next to her. He watched her curiously as she called Michael and invited him up for dinner. He readily agreed, making a mental note to bring her flowers when he came. She'd been through a lot, and he wanted her to know he cared.  
That night, the three of them, along with Mrs. Camp, enjoyed a wonderful meal. Michael's flowers for Bonnie sat in a vase on the table, and she could hardly quit looking at them. Not only was the meal delicious, but everyone seemed in great spirits. Michael absolutely loved the dog, and Bonnie had to warn him twice about not feeding the dog under the table! After the dishes had been cleared, Mrs. Camp headed upstairs to her private room, asking Bonnie if she wanted the dog to stay with her tonight.  
"Oh, yes...I don't know if I can sleep without him now. We'll be leaving in the morning, and then you can reclaim him all to yourself. And thanks so much for loaning him to us. He was...invaluable." She grinned.  
"I hope he wasn't any trouble."  
"Oh, no," Bonnie said, looking at Devon. "No trouble at all."  
The dog just wagged his tail in agreement, as Bonnie and Devon laughed. 


End file.
